Gossip Girl: Memories, Blair & Chuck
by Firefly01
Summary: Chuck feels bad for hurting Blair, and thinks about their short relationship.


**Memories- blair/chuck nc17**

Chuck left the bar drunk and headed home with a head full of cluttered thoughts. Blair was gone. Out of his life for good this time, he'd made certain of that. The things he'd said, the way her face had fallen… Another drink sounded good.

The limo driver jumped out of his seat and ran around to open the door, but Chuck waved him away, feeling suddenly ill at the thought of riding in that car. "I'll walk," he said, handing the perplexed driver a tip.

He moved in a daze, not really seeing or hearing anything. His lower half was mostly numb, and he could only partially feel his hands. Already he'd had enough alcohol in him to comfortably sedate his body for the night, but it would take more to quiet his spinning head. Thoughts of Blair weighed so heavily on him, he felt as though the entire trip home was spent walking through wet cement.

He stepped into his hotel, not feeling quite as grand as he normally did. As he had in recent weeks. Did he love Blair? Was that what that feeling had been? At the time, he didn't know. Had really only felt like more of himself. More wealthy, more important, more refined. More Chuck. Why now then did he feel as though he'd lost all of that? Lost everything.

"Good evening Mr. Bass," the elevator man greeted as Chuck stepped inside. He ignored the man as usual and rode to the penthouse in silence. Once inside his room, he resisted the urge to break everything he saw, and instead gingerly reached out to pull the cord of a 2,000 lamp, lighting the room in a low, colorful haze.

Seeing the room made it worse however, because he could only see her ghost everywhere. Blair sitting primly in the wingback chair, legs crossed, teacup balanced perfectly in her lap. Blair crossing the room in long, purposeful strides, throwing the curtains open to let the morning sun in while he covered his face with a sheet, groaning in protest.

Surely there have been other women in this room before. Many, even. Sometimes two or three at a time, but they were all nameless, faceless nothings and only Blair seemed to count. Only she mattered, but now that was all fucked to hell.

He should have stayed in Morocco. Maybe then things wouldn't have gotten so bad. Maybe Blair would have grown bored with Nate, and realized that Chuck truly was the right guy for her. She'd have called and begged him to return, and he would have protested and played hard to get, but come home eventually into her waiting arms. Happily ever after and all that shit.

Or maybe she would have been happy with Nate after all. Her first love, the one she always wanted.

Chuck sighed and poured himself a generous drink, opting to sit on the floor rather than invade Blair's chair. He sagged against the wall and sank down slowly, spilling alcohol on his pants as he hit the floor. As the amber colored liquid burned his throat, Chuck thought back for the hundredth time on what he'd said to Blair that evening. He'd told her that she'd been a fascination because she'd been untouched. Wasn't a lie, she had been. For years, he'd imagined what it would be like to be the one who got to put his hands on her skin for the first time. The first to make her shiver. First to make her moan. Incredible that he had been after all.

If only he'd known the consequences of being the first to begin with, perhaps he never would have allowed it to happen. Never would have let those particular memories be branded into his very soul. It was more than quick passion, more than a tryst. Chuck felt like he owned part of her, and maybe he did anyway. Fuck her, and fuck Nate too, they couldn't take that away from him.

He took another sip and rested his head against the wall, rubbing his free hand over his face as if he could somehow wipe the images away. Blair, eyes mixed with fear and pleasure as he pulled her gown down off her shoulders. Her breasts bouncing lightly with the movements of the car, hands firmly at her sides, fingers clasped together tightly.

Blair, gazing at his lap in curiosity and wonder. Her hand reaching out carefully to touch him, her light gasp at the odd combination of rock hard and velvet smooth. The way she smiled at seeing his reaction when she gently stroked the length.

And Blair, laying back on the seat, lifting up slightly so that he could remove her panties. Her fear, and the way she held her knees together were heartbreaking. He'd pressed a kiss to each before spreading them apart.

There. There she was finally, and maybe he should have known just then. As the car passed each street lamp, the light continuously strobed bright and dark. Exposed and hidden. Here and gone.

But he didn't care about that then. Nothing could have stopped him in that moment with her eyes pleading up at him, liquid and wanting, her scent filling his senses and urging him forward. As he pressed against her, Chuck had felt a stab of panic, as if somehow it were his first time too.

Being inside of Blair was a feeling so profoundly surreal that he couldn't quite accept it as reality. Surely it was a dream, because the real Blair would have never allowed such a low being to touch her. Never would have raised her hips to him and clasped her little hands around his back. Never would have sank her teeth into his shoulder when he came.

He'd spent hours trying to convince himself that the miracle had actually happened, and so it was with relief that she came to him again on the night of her birthday party. He'd brought her here of course, and allowed himself the luxury of seeing her naked body in full lighting. Kissed the hurt away that Nate had caused.

If only she hadn't so inhabited this room. Chuck finished his drink, and dared to open his eyes again. He should go lay down and head off the drunkenness, but the vision he saw over there made his heart ache. Blair asleep in the bed beside him, her naked shoulder exposed, fingers curled near her face while a small smile plays at her lips. Beautiful. Perfect. Only his, at least for a while. A living, breathing memory.

Better to let her sleep.


End file.
